Halloween Afternoon: The Bear

I know, I know.  I left me a 19-year-old virgin.  Still.  I will continue my pre-blog history another day.

 Lansing—October, 2025

It was Halloween.  I went to the large play venue in Lansing.  To get the most out of my admission price, I did two shifts—late afternoon and after 8pm.  It was not as busy as I thought it might be, but I had some fun…

 

There is not much of a crowd at 4pm.  Then I realize I am usually here on a Saturday in the afternoon.  But there are men here.  The space is so large, it takes some time to find them.  A number of men are back by the gloryholes.  But no one seems to want to use them.  I stick my dick through one.  It is touched.  And rejected.

I wander.

The cross and the stocks have been moved.  There is a maze in its place, right next to the sling and fuckbench.  I surprise a man stroking himself.  Instead of reaching for me or allowing me to kneel and take care of him, he leaves.

Well, damn.

I go to the front area to watch porn, as the video playing near the glory holes keeps freezing up.  I sit on one of the sofas and stroke.  Across from me is a totally naked bear—except for his shoes.  He’s likely in his 50’s.  He is stroking.  Hard and determined.

We eye each other—and not the videos. 

I get up and go over.  “You want some help with that?”

He nods and I kneel.  I begin to suck his dick.  My left hand is working his hairy balls.  He moans—and lets me do whatever I want.  I hunker down and suck on the sack I’ve been fondling.  He moans again—and beats his cock as I work on his nuts.

Suddenly he stands up.  He gestures for me to follow him into the dark room that is behind us.  I follow him into the blackness—and can’t see a damn thing.  His hand finds my wet cock.  He bends and sucks me.  I can barely see him.  His mouth is good—and barely seeing him turns me on even more.  He deep throats me with ease.

“I need this in my ass!”

He turns.  My night vision is adjusting.  I can see the outline of his cheeks.  Now I feel how hairy they are.  And the crack.  My finger finds his hole.  Wet and slightly sloppy. 

“Fuck me…”

I push into him.  His hole is great, though the angle it not very good with my long legs.  I fuck him hard, slapping his generous ass cheeks.  The sound of the slap fills the tiny room, making him pant even harder.  I slow down—and speed up to a fuck that is fast and hard.

I pull out.  He groans and thanks me.

I wander.

I find a guy in the new maze.  He is sitting in a chair, waiting to suck.  I let him.  For 30 seconds.  He is all teeth.  I excuse myself.

I go back to the porn in the front room.  I stroke.

Men walk by me, but no one wants to commit to play.

I go back to the other end and there is the big bear on the fuck bench.  A man is behind him.  One hand plays with his ass; the other hand is trying to jerk his dick to hardness.  I watch.  The would-be top finally gives up.  I go into the fenced off area before the bear can get up.  I kneel and start tongue fucking him.  He groans.  He finally looks around and sees that’s it’s me.  He reaches back and pulls his cheeks apart.  I sink in deeper.  Heaven.  I am in no hurry to stand up and fuck again.  His hole is puffier now, and I love to take his ass lips into my mouth.

I finally stand up.  My cock is telling me to fuck.  I slide in.  He gasps.  I reach down and stroke his back as I thrust in and out.  A slow, even tempo.  We get two guys on the other side of the fence to stop and watch us.  But neither are tops—they want to be the bear.

I speed up.  His hole makes that wet and squishy sound I love.  I stop and go back to my knees.  I eat his hole, licking up all the ass jizz I have helped create.

“Pig…” says one of the spectators. 

I go on happily rimming.

Then fucking.

“Want to move to the sling?”

We do.  “It has to be fast,” he tells me.  “I need to get on the road home.”

I get his legs in place and slide in.  I like watching his face as I fuck, but the sling is at an odd communal height.  But I make do.   I build the fuck.  He strokes his semi-hard cock.  I can’t tell if he is trying to get off or not. 

I pull out.  He thanks me and takes off to find his clothes…

*

I am back in the front room watching and stroking.

A man stands a distance away.  He inches closer, kneading the bulge in his trousers.  We are both watching the bisexual video.  He gets closer and closer until he stands right next to my sofa.

“Hot…” he whispers.  Me?  The porn?  The room?

His zipper is undone.  He pulls out a very generic, cut six incher.

We both stroke.

“You suck?”

What the hell.  “Sure.” 

With me sitting, he is just at the right height to push it into my mouth.  My tongue goes to work.

“Stop.” 

I do.  Surprised.

“Don’t do anything.  Let me…”

I expect him to face fuck me.  But he doesn’t.  He starts doing Kegels so his cock head expands in my mouth.  Over and over.  Now, after each squeeze of his butt cheeks, his cock drips precum.  I just stay still and let him do the work.

Another squeeze.  Another drop.  And another.

“Oh, yeah…”

He squeezes hard.  His cock head expands once again—but the biggest I’ve felt it.  Cum begins to pour out of his cock.  Not spurt, but a steady flow of seed.  He tastes great and, at last, I am allowed to move my mouth and swallow or I will drown.  He lets me clean him up. 

“Will you be here tonight?” he asks.

I nod, my tongue cleaning up the last of the see from his piss slit.

He goes off.  Very happy,

I smile at the fact I just did something new…and decide it’s time for dinner.

(Next time:  Halloween night.)

History: Coming Out

 Off to College!  I couldn’t wait.

My parents had taken the family to Europe for my brother’s high school graduation present.  Mine, as we’d returned to England just before I graduated, was a one week cruise in the Caribbean and a week on St. Lucia.  It was lovely and I was besotted by my neighbor on the island.  A tanned, blond diver with a puka shell necklace.  His hair was bleached by the sun and saltwater.  He had a true swimmer’s build.  It was the age of tight Speedos and I was very grateful.  Each night I wanked one out, thinking about him.

College.  I didn’t know anyone going to the state school I attended so I took my chance with assigned roommates in the dorm.  It was not a great fit.  I was certainly the odd man out as the other three in the quad had girlfriends and talked up of little other than their supposed prowess.

I waited.  And tried to find alone time.  I once heard a rumor of a cruisy bathroom in the Union.  If it was—I never lucked into it at the right moment.  And I am not sure I even wanted anonymous sex.  I wanted a true boyfriend.

I did a show the first semester.  I saw all sorts of gay men around me—but I was just too shy to do anything about it.   Still dreaming.

My first year finished well academically.  I had my first summer job – at Greenfield Village.  I was smack in the middle of the Bicentennial display and worked the 220-year-old printing press, printing out handbills.  It was a great job.  And full of eye candy coming through the museum.

Working there also gave me quite a free schedule.  In August, on the day before his birthday, I got an invite for dinner from my brother.  He had moved to Ann Arbor—quite close to the family home.  He apartment surfed with various friends for a time—and finally had a more permanent place.  His roommates were a gay couple.  They would not be home.  I was excited.  I knew what I had to do…

The apartment was crammed with antiques and plants.  I set the table as my brother finished things up. Dinner was steaks on the grill, I noted in my journal.  Afterwards, I had my first scotch as we talked about my brother’s stereo.  We both knew there were more important things to talk about. 

I took a deep breath and told him about the books I had found of Dad’s.  He had seen some straight ones but was surprised/not surprised at the turn to gay books.  (We talked more about Dad—and that will be a post unto itself…)

I, being brave and coaxed by my brother, admitted to him that I had found his magazines the summer he was at the house.  He took a deep breath and told me he was bisexual.  (A term to soften the blow.  I know now, not in the least—he’s a gold star gay.)  He asked if I was shocked or upset.

“No.”

“I’m glad someone in the family knows and will understand.”

“Well….” And I paused a long time.  Before it all came out in a rush.  That I was still a virgin.  I was easily stimulated by either sex, but more so with guys.  How my shyness was really hindering me making any kind of contact…

We talked forever—and it felt wonderful to get it out in the open.

Finally, he asked if I would like to go to the gay disco.   I am sure my eyes went wide.  I couldn’t answer—but finally said ‘yes.’  He called Dad, after turning up the stereo, to say some friends had dropped over for an impromptu birthday party and I would be staying over.  I could just picture Dad telling Mom how glad he was that I was finally meeting people.  If he only knew…

It was 1976—so you need to forgive my brother for changing into a pink jumpsuit (though he swore it was orange!)  We set off for the Rubiayat, the only gay dance club in Ann Arbor.  As he drove, I worried out loud about meeting people I knew.

“You might.  One of your drama buddies from high school is there all the time.” 

Talk about a mix of excitement and nerves.

I was not even carded as we entered, though I knew I looked younger than my 19 years.  We went down a narrow corridor and into the restaurant by day/gay disco by night.  There were booths surrounding the dance floor—which was an explosion of light and color in this otherwise dark space.  A man in a blue jumpsuit grabbed my brother and gave him a long kiss on the mouth. 

We found a table and my brother went to the bar—scotch for him and I switched to Coke.  The moment it was delivered, Blue Jumpsuit pulled my brother onto the dance floor and I was left alone.  A guy asked me to dance—but I didn’t accept.  I was a bag of nerves.  That was until the guy from my high school saw me, looked surprised, and came over to talk.  

I made it through the evening.

But we weren’t done.  As the dancing wound down, my brother decided I needed to see the other bar in town.  The Flame was the neighborhood bar.  It was old, dingy and everything in it seemed to be shit brown.  I stuck with a Coke.  I even ventured to the restroom and lived to tell the tale.  We didn’t stay long.

Back at the apartment, the roommates were home.  With birthday presents.  They were incredibly nice to me—and it was great to be able to talk and not shout over the thump of a driving beat.  We chatted and laughed until it was 4am.

It was announced I would share the king-sized bed with my brother, as the couch was too short for my tall frame.  I gulped inwardly and agreed.  He was naked in no time and hopped in.  So did I, but sleep was the last thing I could even think about.  So many thoughts and images swirled in my brain as I lay there:  Coming out.  All the things we talked about.  Images of The Flame.  The pulsing noise of The Rubaiyat.  My friend from high school.  The sound of the roommates down the hall getting ready for bed and all that entailed in my fevered mind…

And it didn’t help that I found my brother extremely attractive.  He was already asleep.  His heavy breathing calmed me—and I finally drifted off…

Cute College Kid Sits on Daddy's Lap

 Near Home—October, 2025

 

I wasn’t planning to go back.  I knew I was playing on Halloween.  Don’t take the time, I told myself.  Save the money.  But my hard dick won over my brain.  I went back to the bookstore the very next day.  A Wednesday afternoon.  It was packed…

 

There are 10 or 12 men in the room as I enter.  Surprisingly, one of the few empty chairs, is the one a bud had designated my throne, front and center.  I sit down and, in moments, my cock flops out.  I work to stiffen it up as I look around the room.  Shaved Head is sucking a guy in the back corner.  A handsome young Black man is jerking a sizable dick as he scrolls through his phone.  Other men are kneading their bulge.

Shy One, Shaved Head’s partner, comes over to me.  He asks if he can start me off.  “I need some of that Louisville Slugger.”  I am secretly thrilled—I love his mouth and his thirst for pleasing cock.  He kneels and takes me to the root the very first instant.  Then he goes to work.  My cock is soon wet and dripping.

A guy a seat away is inspired by the action.  He unzips and strokes to our sex.   Shy One goes to my balls.  I groan audibly—loud enough for the Black guy to look up from his phone.  He smiles and gives me a head nod.  Shy One works up the length of my dick with his tongue and deep throats me once more.  We both sense his partner is now watching us.  Shy One gives way to him. 

Shaved Head kneels and begins sucking me.  I like what SH does with my dick—but it always feels slightly toothy after his partner.  I know he has just taken a load from the guy he was sucking seated behind me—and that makes my cock drip all the more.  He sucks me for some time, but tires faster than usual—and the two of them take off.

The Black guy on his phone has been searching online for a younger man (than any of us in this room) to suck him.  He’s found him.  The guy walks in and goes directly to him.  He drops to his knees and is quickly rewarded with a load down his throat.  They both take off.

Cute College Kid comes in.  I love his smile when he registers that I’m here.  He sits next to me, takes out his cock and gets it hard.  He leans over and whispers: “Today I need to get fucked.”

Great.

We stroke to the porn for a moment.  Then I slip to the floor and suck his cock.  He murmurs his approval.  All too fast he pulls his dick out of my mouth so he won’t blow his load too soon.

“Let’s move around back…”

We move to the two seats near the gay screen—now vacant after Shaved Head got the guy off.  CCK removes his pants.  I kneel and suck him one more time.  He hunkers down in the seat, pulling his legs up so my tongue can just reach his ass crack.  He moves more—so I can connect with his hole.  Soon, he is beating his cock as I tongue fuck him.

“I want your dick.”  I try to enter him in this position.  It’s not going to work.  I ask him to get on all fours, but he doesn’t like that position.  (News to me—I have fucked him that way countless times.)  I sit in my chair.  “Ride me.”

His eyes get big.  I add more lube and he lowers himself onto my cock.  It feels great—his ass is clinging to every inch of my dick.  He moans, loving how full he feels.  He begins slowly moving up and down.  Soon, he is truly riding me, pushing his ass down my entire length.  He groans.  The guys across from us watch and stroke.  CCK keeps it up until he’s ready to blow his load.  He pulls off my cock, spins and feeds me his cum—spurt after spurt.

I clean him up, getting every drop.  He sits and busies himself with his phone.  I know that soon enough, there will be a second load coming my way…

*

Cute College Kid is hard again.  We move around to the chairs we started in.  He idly plays with a guy sitting to his right.  He fondles the cock, but the guy won’t let him suck it.  But it gets CCK hot.  Hot enough to turn to me and whisper “Quick, take it!”  I slip to the floor and get his second load.  He takes off—happy and with significantly lighter balls…

I stroke.   Other men filter out of the room.

A man my age has been watching me since I arrived.  He has a neatly trimmed grey bread and a pleasant face.  He comes over, asks politely to suck me, and kneels.  Oh, yeah.  His mouth is just what I need.  He knows all the tricks I love.  His tongue is everywhere.  Balls.  Shaft.  Dripping cock head.   The amount of suction he builds up almost sends me over the edge—but not quite.  He works me until he has to stretch.

Another man, a few years younger, takes a turn.  If he had been on me before the bearded guy, I would have really liked his mouth, but after him, he is nothing special.  But it is fun—and he loves to stroke himself as he sucks.  He even comes back for a second round.

One of the men openly jerking to Cute College Kid riding me, was a mixed-race man I have never seen before.  He had a nice seven-incher and loved beating it to our fuck.  I wanted him in my mouth—but he took off soon after CCK pulled off me and fed me his first load.  But he seemingly didn’t leave the parking lot—for he comes back in.  He sits where he can look right at me. 

We both stroke.  Now I’m not sure who wants who on their knees.  I nod.  He nods.  I go over.  Is he going to reach for my dick or have me kneel.  A moment—and I kneel.  I take him into my mouth.  He sighs.  His dick is damp with precum.  I love the taste—somehow sweeter than CCK’s.  I work hard.  He even opens his pants more so I can suck his big ball sack.  But I can’t quite get him over the edge.  His cock actually wilts a little after my 10-minute workout.  He thanks me profusely—and goes into the restroom.  Damn, I would have taken his piss in a heartbeat…

I need to shoot.  I find the bearded cocksucker.  I stand in front of him and let him work on me.  I grab the sides of his head and begin to face fuck him.  He groans—letting me know how much he likes this.

“I’m gonna shoot,” I mutter.  “Take my load.”

He pulls away from me.  “I don’t swallow.  I don’t even like cum in my mouth,”

I stand dumbfounded.  My impending orgasm truly side-tracked. 

I look around the room—but so many men have left throughout my playing with others, there is no one left.  I look again at the bearded guy.  He won’t meet my eyes.

Why suck dick if you don’t want the prize?

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

 Near Home—October, 2025

 

I got my car back late in the day on Monday, just before the shop closed.  I thought it was pointless to go looking for sex on a Monday night.  But I zoomed through my morning routine the next day so I could spend the afternoon at the bookstore.  The parking lot was not packed.  I didn’t care.  One man, the right man, was all I needed…

 

It feels very dark in the theatre.  I move cautiously to find a chair.  My usual seat is taken by a younger man.  I sit off to the side on the long wall, so I can see both screens.  The straight porn has had a night scene.  As the couple in the video goes back inside, the screen brightens and I can see around the room.  For so few cars, there are still half a dozen men here.  I recognize one man, a man I have played with here since I first found this place.  He is down the row from me.  The rest are strangers.

The guy in my usual seat undoes his pants.  He takes out a limp dick and begins working on it.  His cock grows and grows. The bathroom door opens.  The crossdressing Latino comes out.  He sits down in the chair next to the man with the big dick.  He reaches for it—and is rebuffed.  He pulls his own out and strokes it—eyeing the one that is at least twice as big as his, if not more.

The man I know gets up and moves to sit next to me.  We greet each other quietly.  His cock is hard.  I expect him to stand up and present his dick to be sucked.  Instead, he stands, then kneels and goes down on me.  Fuck!  It’s the first mouth on me for two weeks—and one who knows what he’s doing.  I lean back and let him go to work.

When his knees tire, I am ready to return the favor, but instead, a really short guy (who had moved near us during my sucking) goes to the floor and takes the guy I know into his mouth and then me.  Back and forth.  He can’t deep throat—but he has a great tongue.  We both love that he gives us equal time.  He only stops sucking us when he realizes he’s not going to get two loads down his throat.  He moves away, near the gay screen.

“I saved this for you.”  My bookstore acquaintance stands up and puts his dick in my mouth.  Almost instantly he is shooting down my throat.  He smiles, pulls himself together and leaves.

I stroke.

The big guy either cums very discreetly or just decides to take it home to his partner.  He puts his dick away and leaves.  The crossdressing Latino follows him out the door.

I look to the gay screen.  The short guy has lost his pants.  He is on all fours, sucking a guy who looks like he is the owner of the Harley out in the parking lot.  I watch.  The small guy turns his ass in my direction.  An invitation…

I get up and move towards the pair.  The small guy is now sucking the biker’s balls as the guy strokes himself.  I kneel and touch the exposed ass, running my fingers down the guy’s ass crack.

“Fuck!” the biker says under his breath.  He’s blown his load at the idea I was going to fuck the guy giving him head.  The biker doesn’t let the small guy clean him up.  He heads to the restroom and the small guy gets up and puts on his pants—and leaves, following the biker out the door.

I sit back down.  Dammit.  It would have been perfect. 

I stroke.  The few men left are voyeurs.  They leave one by one.

I stroke alone.  Not happy that I missed my chance.

I stroke.  And wait.

The straight video stops.  And stays on the menu card.  I push my cock into my pants and step out into the store to tell the woman behind the counter to flip to the next video.  As I go back in, two guys in their late 30’s come in after me—obviously a couple.  One heads to the rest room.  The other sits near me.  As soon as the video starts, he unzips.  He fists his six incher, turning his head to each screen.  The men on the gay screen are in a sixth-nine.  On the straight screen, the man is eating out a busty brunette.

The partner comes in from the restroom.  Both these guys look a little rough.  Like the weekend revels are still going.  The guy from the bathroom sits across the room from his partner and watches him stroke.  He smiles at him, gets up and kneels in front of him.  He begins sucking his partner.  The guy getting sucked, turns to me and grins.  I nod back, encouraging them to have fun.

After a while he stops.  The guy who was sucking swings up into the chair between me and his partner.  He looks at my big dick—and leans over and whispers:  “What’s your story?  What do you like to do?”

“Vers for oral.  All top for anal.”

“Great.  You want to fuck me as I suck him off?”

“Sure.”  Then I add, “If I fuck you, I’ll breed you.  I haven’t had much sex lately.  That ok?”

He stands up and drops his pants.  “I want a load in my ass.  Fuck me.”

He drops his pants.  His bare butt is pale and is sparsely haired.  He stands in front of his partner and bends to suck him.  I love that he knows I don’t need to be kneeling on the hard floor. 

But I go to my knees, for I can’t miss the chance to eat his beautiful ass.  Neither guy is expecting this. 

“Fuck, yes!” says the guy being sucked and the man I’m eating moans around the dick in his mouth.  I want to keep licking his hole, but my need is too great.  I stand up and push against his wet pucker.  He flowers open easily—a true asspig—and takes me all the way in on the first stroke.  I hold and slowly begin to fuck him. 

Now he pulls off the dick in his mouth.  “You feel even bigger than you look,” he moans, before attacking the dick in front of him with renewed vigor.  I build the speed.  This is going to be the shortest fuck I’ve had in years—and no one is going to mind one bit.

I begin pumping in earnest.  Without thinking, I give his ass a hard whack.  He responds with a guttural moan—which makes his partner just as happy.  “Fuck him hard,” whispers the guy in his mouth.  “Load him up.”

I can’t believe my good fortune.  The fuck builds quickly.  I have no control of my hips now.  They are at top speed.  It’s all about release.  I need to cum.  In him.

“Fuck….” breathes the guy getting sucked.  “I’m getting close…”

I speed up, if that’s even possible.  My balls tighten—and I begin shooting spurt after spurt into him.  I think the guy getting sucked gets off, too, but I’m so lost in my own orgasm, I don’t know for sure.

I marinate in his ass for a moment.  I pull out, inch by inch.  The guy moans.  A trail of cum seeps out of his hole.  I kneel and lick it back into place as the partner’s embrace…

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween!

I am headed out tonight to a venue where I should find great material for a new post!

I am taking a break from the History write-ups as I need to do some research.  I am right at the point of coming out and losing my virginity.  Fortunately, I kept a college journal.  I just need a little time to decipher my very cramped cursive.  It is interesting to read my perception of things at 20.  Surprisingly similar…

When I post again on Sunday, it will be back to business as usual—reporting on current sex.  The History posts will likely be about once a week from here on in.  (Once I’ve started them, I don’t think I can stop…though I’m not likely to use any photos of my horrible mid-1970’s hair…)

History: Jerking Like Crazy

 

I was a very fat baby at birth.  And I didn’t want to leave the womb.  I was expected in late November and showed up just before Christmas.  The story that my mother didn’t tell me (until a touch of dementia loosened her up a little) was that I came out pissing.  A geyser.  Everywhere and all over everybody as the doctor held me aloft.  How perfect for a man who loves to include some piss in his sex.  It goes right along with a recurring childhood dream of swimming in a pool of piss.  I had it nightly for years…

At around six months old, I lost all that baby fat.  I was thin.  Painfully thin for all my childhood.  I am still under weight for my height.  And now I am thankful for it.

I took my time learning to walk.  I am told I could crawl so fast, I didn’t bother with the other.  But once I did, I ran.  The old homestead was the perfect place to race with the wind across the fields.

But I digress.  We left me with a dry orgasm…

 

I desperately wanted sex.  But I didn’t know how to go about it.  I was still pretty much a loner.  I had friends, but not anyone that I thought would do that “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours” thing.

So, I read Dad’s books when I could find them.  And rubbed.  Wrapping my hand around my shaft took me some time to figure out.  I did not shoot.  I just got an occasional pearl of liquid.

My Ninth Grade ID Card

I was now in ninth grade.  My last year of any kind of gym class.  And everybody was maturing.  But not me.  A kid, destined for the football team, had matured earlier than most.  He knew it and paraded around the locker room stark naked showing off his man-sized dick.  As the fall semester progressed, it seemed like everyone else was catching up with him.  Lower voices, pubic hair.

And me?  Nothing.

That November my church presented the opera Amahl and the Night Visitors.  I was playing Amahl, singing boy soprano.  The first show went smoothly.  By the second one (on my 15^th birthday, no less) I thought I had caught the cold that had progressed through the company.  I had to really work on my high notes.

It wasn’t a cold.  In two weeks time, I was a baritone.  Puberty was upon me.  Hair—below the waist I was a forest.  But nothing on that scrawny chest.  But best of all, I was getting more and more semen.

In one of Dad’s books, there must have been a mention of self-sucking.  I don’t think at the time I would ever have thought of it on my own.  I tried it.  I bent forward.  Nope.  I lay on my back and curled my legs over my head.  My cock was right in line with my mouth.  Bingo.  I licked and shot a load in my mouth. 

And loved it.

The bunk beds were now side by side twins in my big room that I had all to myself.  The headboard was slatted.  I found I could use my toes and get them into the space between the slats.  I could grip the head board with them and stay in place. It was uncomfortable if I stayed that way too long.   So soon, I would just roll up and over when it was time to shoot.  It was so much easier on clean up.  Otherwise, I’d have to haul out that yellowing athletic sock I kept under the bed.

During the summer before I went to high school, I was doing one of the jobs around the farm I hated—picking up the litter along the road.  Our once sleepy rural road was suddenly connected to a new portion of an interstate.  Traffic doubled—then tripled.  In 1972 we were still a nation of litterers.  So at least once a week I was tasked with picking it all up.

Well, this hot July day got hotter as I picked up a piece of newsprint.  I seemed to be a newspaper for swingers.  There were ads looking for thirds to add to couples, a couple looking for a Dom, etc.

But there was also a picture of a man fucking a woman.  I could see his dick going into her.  A first for me, in this age before the internet.  The covers of all those porn novels were drawn—and never showed anything that hardcore.  It was always a tease—a moment depicting just before you did the deed.

I raced through the rest of my chores.  I dumped the trash, washed my hands and took my find into the barn where I couldn’t keep my hands off myself…

*

High School.  At last.  I was growing taller—and fast.  I remember sitting in class and picking at the cuffs in my grey corduroy pants.  I had to let them down—I just kept growing.

I was still unsure of how to approach anyone.  I’d found my group easily—the drama club—and there were boys there who I knew had to be gay.  But I didn’t make a move.  There was one who actually lisped and walked like a girl—I couldn’t.  Another I was sure was queer one minute and then he’d do something that left me doubtful.  Yet another was just strange—but he seemed to have eyes for me.

I also wasn’t encouraged to partner up from watching the hetro side of things.  There was a nasty break up of a couple while they were currently cast as the love interest in the play we were doing.  I hated the tension and nastiness of it all and wanted no part of it.  Add to that my parents wondering when I was going to start dating, I just told myself to wait.

And I did.  I waited until I got to college and was in my own space.

*

There was one more discovery during high school.  The summer of my sophomore year, my brother came home for the summer and moved back into that tiny room.  He brought with him a metal box, the kind of locked box where you keep your important family papers.  Of course, I snooped when he was away at work.  They were magazines.  Not the over-the-counter gay magazines, but stills from the fledgling gay porn industry.  He had seven of them that were gay and one straight one.  A light bulb went off.  Was he gay?  Did he have the same feelings about guys I did?  But I knew he’d be brave enough to act on it.

I looked at one of the gay mags.  Then I made myself look at the straight one.

I knew which turned me on more.

I waited.

And dreamed…

I won a scholarship to college—and made the newspaper, so end of my senior year.

History: Another First

 I am typing this while I keep an ear open for the call from the auto repair place.  My car should be done today…

 

I was devasted.  As my older brother hit adolescence, he wanted his own room.  Didn’t he love the bunk beds as much as I did?  I really didn’t want to sleep in the big room all alone.  But he was adamant.  He was now a teenager; he wanted privacy.  I was going from playmate to just the kid brother he had outgrown—and I was not happy about it.

The only room possible for him to have was a tiny space at the top of the stairs.  It had been my great grandmother’s sewing room and storage for my parents.  There was just room for a single bed and a chest of drawers.  As time went on, he fit a desk in the corner and made room for his first stereo.  He could sit on the bed or at the desk, but that was about all.  But it was his.  Best of all, there was a door he could shut.  And maybe lock, I don’t honestly remember.

I got along just fine without his constant presence.  I had to.  He had a paper route now.  He had new friends from junior high.  I was happy alone in my make-believe world. Or walking to my elementary school.  It was across the field and then around a subdivision that was being built right up to our back property line.  As families moved into the cheap looking houses, my brother soon created a baseball team.  He made them work hard to build a diamond in our back field.  I sat in the tree, quite content to watch…

*

I continued my exploring, to see if my dad had hidden anything else around the house.  Our farmhouse had a Michigan cellar.  It was finished stone for most of it, but there was also an area of bare soil so you could bury your vegetables for the winter, in those days before refrigeration.  I loved to go down there.  It was slightly spooky with a single bulb lighting it.  The finished space was filled with chests and crates from my parent’s college years and early married life.

I sifted through the contents:  school books, maternity clothes, photographs of my mother’s college friends.  Another box:  my father’s scrapbook on young princess Elizabeth, his Eisenhower jacket, an army duffle bag and a tiny box of medals. 

I moved on to the shelf unit, built into one wall:  paint, old tools and a box of odds and ends of hardware.  And in the bottom of the hardware box was another paperback novel.  The cover wasn’t as lurid.  It showed a very fit guy in a cowboy hat chatting up a waitress who could barely keep her breasts in her tight blouse.

I put it back, just as I found it.  Was Dad reading it now—of was it as forgotten as the two in the barn?  I waited.  I checked on it constantly.  I had placed an old kitchen faucet so it just touched the top corner of the book.  Every time I checked back, it was always in the same place.  He wasn’t reading it.

So, I did.  Sometimes I felt aroused.  But even at my young age, I hated the verbiage of “his thick column of pleasure parted her swollen gates of heaven…” I finished it, but it did little for me.

*

In no time, I was 11 and my brother was in high school.  Both busier.

I found more books at the bottom of a garment bag in the basement.   There were three or four.  And each time I checked on them, they were in a different order—so I knew he was currently reading them.  One night, when mom was at choir practice, I went to bed early.  I waited.  I heard the door to the cellar open.  I waited a little more, my mind racing.  I came down the stairs in my bathrobe.  Dad was just walking into the living room, in his robe and pajamas.  He looked surprised.  I went for my drink of water, feeling victorious.  I had seen the top edge of one of the paperbacks in his bathrobe pocket.

I was suddenly 14.  My brother was off to college.   My Mother had gone back to teaching once I was in middle school.  I had long afternoons while both parents were still at work.  This is when I discovered Everything You’ve Always Wanted to Know About Sex*…in Dad’s closet.  I read it cover to cover.  I didn’t know what to think…

More books turned up.  But with the 1970’s they were filthier now.  And I liked them more.  I found another three under the front seat of his car when he sent me out to bring in a box he’d left there.  Two were the usual.  And one had a picture of just men on the cover…

I tucked them quickly back in the bag and under the seat. The next time I could, I re-read the chapter on homosexuals according to Dr Reuben.  I was appalled—and fascinated.  I had looked at the men and boys in the Montgomery Ward’s Catalog; pouring over the underwear section.  But I did the same over the brassieres and girdles.  I knew I wanted to read that book—but being in his car made it much, much harder.

But good things come to those who wait, right?  For some reason Mom and Dad had to switch cars.  There was no way he would leave those in there.  I searched the barn.  Our travel trailer was tucked in the corner—and there they were, under a tarp.  And they stayed there, as if he’d forgotten about them.

Soon, there was a church dinner followed by a building committee meeting.  My parents would be gone for hours. They had no issues leaving 14-year-old-responsible-me alone.  I waited five minutes after they were gone.  Out I went.  They were there.  I grabbed the gay novel and took it inside.  I sat in the living room to read.  None of that bad porn writing was here.  It was straightforward—a young man having his first sex—with another, slightly older man.  I read.  The young man was talked into getting his cock sucked.  My own penis erected, hugged tight by my Fruit of the Looms and corduroy pants.  The older man now told the younger man to roll over.  I changed position, too, lying with my chest to the cushions, still with my nose in the book.  The older man began licking the younger guy’s butt.  What the hell?  I couldn’t imagine.  But the author had the young man moaning and telling him not to stop.

The older man did stop.  I flipped the page.  There was a very intense description of him working his large, hard cock into the young man’s asshole.  The guy taking it was begging him to stop.  My hips were grinding into the couch cushion without my even realizing it.  I turned another page and now the young man was begging to get fucked harder.

“I love what you’re doing to me…” the young guy groaned.

My hips had a mind of their own as I read.  They ground into the cushion.

“I’m going to cum,” panted the older man.  The author gave a vivid description of the thrusting.  Of the cock swelling.  Of a huge, overflowing load being shot into the young man’s ass…

My hips bucked—and I thought I’d pass out.  Oh, my God, I was having a heart attack!  I dropped the book and tried to sit up.  I could.  But only just.

As my breathing returned to normal, I realized my cock was no longer hard.  I found the good Doctor Reuben and re-read the section on male ejaculation.  I knew what had happened.  I opened my pants.  My cock was still slightly hard.  There was no ejaculate.  My first dry load.

I couldn’t wait to do it again.

The summer I was 11.